


Lain to Rest

by inelegantly (Lir)



Series: SWAG 2016 Fills [7]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort, Coping, Drinking to Cope, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/inelegantly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is only one person Ogata can allow to see his true feelings after Touya Meijin passes away, and that person is one of the few suffering more grief than him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lain to Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psiten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiten/gifts).



> The prompt this fic was written from was precisely what is written in the summary.
> 
> I'm not usually one for death fics, but I am a supporter of stories about the ways we choose to comfort ourselves in the face of hardship and the ways people rely on each other. This prompt was a lovely chance to explore that sort of relationship between Ogata and Akira, and felt like a fitting enough choice, when Touya Kouyou's mortality is notably touched on in the series itself.

-

Akiko is the one to call Ogata and relate to him the news. 

Her voice is steady and even on the phone, explaining that her husband — his mentor — had passed away this night. Ogata might have thought her calm, if not for the telltale, tiniest shake to her voice when she speaks Touya Kouyou's name. 

Ogata imparts to her his condolences over Touya Kouyou's passing, and assures her that he will be present for the wake. He's polite, somber in the face of news that has not yet fully sunken in, and though the impulse to thank her for informing him is there, he bites back those words, thinking they might not be wise. 

That self-restraint leaves him as soon as he is off the phone, and Ogata drinks until light begins to filter in through his apartment windows, drinks until it's the alcohol that forces him, unwillingly, to sleep. 

-

The wake is a beautiful ceremony, well-populated by Touya Kouyou's friends and relatives. 

In life, he had been a popular man for all his sternness, well-known in the world of Go and respected for his accomplishments. Ogata is not surprised by the number of faces he recognizes present in that room. He and Touya Meijin had run in all the same circles. They had known each other for years.

Ogata could not have asked for a better mentor. 

Akira is the one to greet Ogata at the door, and he is the one to whom Ogata gives his envelope of condolence money. Dressed all in black Akira appears small, childlike, and Ogata is reminded of the days long-past in which Akira might ask him for a game, only ten years old and still able to calmly seat himself in seiza on the opposite side of the goban. But the boy Ogata remembers is grown, now — is a young man tasked with the weighty burden of laying a parent to rest. 

Ogata doesn't fault Akira, for not being the one to call and inform Ogata of Touya Kouyou's passing himself. It may be a son's duty to honor his father, but it is still a mother's prerogative to step in where her children are weak. 

Watching Akira stand before the casket, back straight and face perfectly composed, Ogata revises his thought. Akira may be grieving, and he might struggle in navigating the social graces surrounding his father's death, but if there is one thing Touya Meijin's son is not, it is _weak._

-

Ogata regrets his drinking, by the day of the funeral. 

It's only been three days since Akiko's call, but that still means three nights of restless thoughts, of ceaseless pacing, of being unable to process his grief save by drowning it in liquor and torching that with cigarettes. He attempts to put the bottle away, the night before the funeral itself, but Ogata's thoughts keep him up until the earliest hours of the morning, until such time when resolve grows weak and liquor tastes sweeter. 

His head is killing him for the entire funeral service. It's embarrassing, and while his clothing may be neatly pressed and proper, Ogata is certain that his face is haggard. He's certain that the deep shadows underneath his eyes give away his troubled state, at least until he catches sight of Akira, and of the purple bruises standing out stark against his pale face. 

As much as Ogata misses his mentor, the man who taught him more than anyone else about the art of Go, who fought him countless times across a board in private and in matches, who was a friend as much as he was a teacher — as much as Ogata might miss that man, he knows there is one person who misses him more.

When the funeral is over and the other guests are filtering away toward cars and home, Ogata makes himself refrain. Much as he might like to slink away to nurse his hangover in private, there is one thing more important than his pride. 

"If you need someone to talk to," Ogata says, standing beside Akira but not quite looking him in the face. "My apartment door is always open to you, and I am at most a phone call away." 

"Thank you," Akira says, chin similarly downturned and making no attempt to catch Ogata's eye. "I appreciate it."

Ogata pauses, lingering over the impulse to lay a hand against Akira's shoulder, to attempt to provide some form of physical reassurance. But it's too much, the idea of feeling living flesh beneath his palm, of embracing the surviving son of the man Ogata will never know again. Looking at Akira, he doubts he's the only one who would consider that comfort as brought about too soon. 

"It is the least I can do," Ogata adds, before taking his leave.

-

When the knock comes at Ogata's door, he almost doesn't hear it. 

All the blinds are drawn and still its too much light, each slender shaft that pierces into Ogata's bedroom feeling more like a knife piercing into his brain. For a moment, the most he can do is roll over, to shield his eyes from the pain. But the knock comes again, and Ogata forces himself to sit up, to climb out of bed, to drag himself to the front of the apartment and find out who is calling on him.

It's only as Ogata opens the door and catches sight of Touya Akira's face, that he realizes he never went so far as to put pants on. 

Hungover he might be, but Ogata isn't stupid. He doesn't miss the way Akira's gaze darts down, to his bare legs, his filthy boxers, the shirt he likewise hasn't changed from two days before. His eyes pull back up to Ogata's face, rough with stubble and bleary with the aftereffects of too much liquor too many nights in a row. For a moment, they simply stare at each other; Ogata a mess in his nightclothes, Akira neatly-pressed in one of the horrendously-colored suits he likes to wear for pro matches. 

They stare at each other, and then — abruptly — Akira is crying. 

It isn't exactly the relationship they have, but Ogata isn't stupid. He reaches out the moment the tears start, wrapping his arm around Akira's shoulders and pulling his friend, his mentor's, son into his apartment. He manages to get the door closed but by then Akira is just sobbing openly against his chest. 

It takes Ogata another moment to realize it, before he's aware that he's crying, too. Not as loud and not as messily, but there are tears on his face and a pain in his chest and the best response he has to that is to squeeze Akira around the shoulders, to anchor his grief with that kindred feeling of someone else's grief. 

"I'm sorry," Akira says, sometime later when his sobs begin to choke off. He pushes at Ogata, trying to pull away, failing, giving in to staying where he is leaned against a familiar friend. "For... Forcing you to witness this." 

Ogata takes in a breath, then gives up all aspiration of composing himself. He lets the shudder pass slowly through his body, and lets go of Akira's shoulders. 

"I did tell you that I would be here, if you need someone," he reminds Akira.

He means it, and it makes Akira crack a watery smile. But it leaves Ogata no less aware that as much as Akira might need someone to cry on, now that all the work of funeral planning has been done, Ogata needs the reassurance of someone who _understands_ just as much. And the only person capable of approaching — surpassing — how he feels is Touya Kouyou's son. 

-

-


End file.
